


The Handyman

by asamandra



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Disabled Character, Don't copy to another site, F/M, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:28:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21725281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asamandra/pseuds/asamandra
Summary: Since Bucky was released from the Army he refused to leave the house. But then Steve hired a handyman to renovate his garden and suddenly everything is different.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 54
Kudos: 131





	1. Chapter 1

Bucky was already awake when Steve entered the kitchen. He sat at the table, a cup of coffee in front of him, and looked out of the window. He seemed lost in thought. 

“Good morning,” he said. 

Bucky kept staring out of the window. Steve sighed quietly and went to the coffee maker. At least he had made coffee. He took a mug out of the cupboard, filled it and went to the table, too. 

“Bucky?” Steve said and sat down. Bucky startled violently. Coffee spilled out of his mug and ran over his hand and Steve cursed himself. 

“Oh… oh god, it’s…” 

“Sorry,” Steve said. He rose, fetched a few paper towels and cleaned the coffee stains. He also gave one to Bucky who cleaned his hand. He was white as a sheet. “I’m really sorry, Buck,” Steve said. 

“I… I was…” 

“It was my fault,” said Steve. Bucky’s hand shook and so he reached over the table and took it in his hand. Bucky was stiff like a poker from one moment to the next and Steve pulled his hand back. “Fuck, sorry!” he said quickly. He knew Bucky didn’t like to be touched, he really knew it. But it was a reflex. 

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” Steve said again. Bucky looked at him and nodded but Steve saw that it wasn’t okay, that he was still far from okay. 

Bucky nodded again and - with shaking hands - took a long sip from his coffee, choked, coughed and put the mug down. 

“It’s not your fault, Steve,” he said quietly. “It’s… it’s me… I was… I was back… back there… and…” 

Half a year ago Bucky was honorably discharged from the army after losing his arm in Afghanistan. His whole unit was killed because someone had placed a bomb in the middle of a road. He spent a few months in a hospital before they said he was fit to leave with a prosthesis. Steve had offered to move in with him. His house was big enough and he could look after him. Reluctantly Bucky had agreed because he had no idea where else he should live. Steve had cleared his gym equipment out of the second bedroom and had bought a bed for Bucky. 

He moved in as soon as he was released out of the hospital… and since then he only left the house to go to his shrink. Technically. The house had an attached garage and Bucky could get into the car without leaving it. Steve drove him to the shrink where he parked in an underground parking garage and Bucky used the stairs, not the elevator, to get up to the sixteenth floor where his doctor had his office. 

“If you… if you want me to leave…” 

“No, Bucky,” Steve said hastily. “I want you to be here, okay? And it wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I overstepped your limits and I’m sorry.” 

Bucky swallowed hard and licked his lips. He turned his head to look out of the window. 

“It’s more than six months, Stevie,” he whispered. “I… I want to be me again. This… this broken man...” - he gestured at himself - “... I don’t like him. I want to be me again.” 

“I know,” Steve said. He looked at his mug, at the coffee in it. 

“You… you have to go to work,” Bucky said, a long moment later. “I… I’ll stay here.” 

“I’ll call Tony and…” 

“No,” Bucky shook his head. “I… I’ll manage. Promised.” 

Steve felt uneasy but eventually he nodded. He emptied his now cold coffee and rose. 

“If you need something…” 

“... I’ll call you, I know,” Bucky smiled but it was a weak smile and it never reached his eyes. Steve smiled back.

“Right,” he said and put his mug in the sink. He straightened his tie, buttoned his jacket and went to the door. “Maybe… maybe you could try to go to the garden today? It’s going to be a nice day.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky said absentmindedly. “Maybe I can do that.” 

Steve knew he wouldn’t.

***

“Steve!”

His head snapped up and he saw Pepper in front of his desk. 

“Uh…” he said elaborately. 

“Where have you been?” she smiled. “I had to call you three times.” 

Steve leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. 

“Bucky?” Pepper asked a moment later and he nodded. 

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “I… I didn’t think this morning and… and I touched his hand and… I think… I think it will throw him back and it’s my fault and…”

“Steve,” Pepper said. “You’re doing your best. He needs time.” 

“I… I keep telling myself but I think I only make it worse,” he huffed. “I’m a klutz.” 

“No,” Pepper said and shook her head. “Sam told you it will take time and he’s good at his job. Give him time.” 

“Sam said he should try to leave the house, maybe sit on the porch for a few minutes but Bucky doesn’t even leave the house when we drive to his doctor.” 

“Maybe because your porch is so exposed?” Pepper suggested. Sure, she and Tony were technically his bosses but they were also his friends and they had visited him often. Well, at least before Bucky moved in. Bucky didn’t like to have too many people around him and three people were too many. 

“Huh?” Steve asked. 

“Your porch is at the front of your house. When Bucky sits on it everyone walking along the street can see him,” she said. “It’s not safe.” 

“Huh,” Steve said, furrowed his brows and pursed his lips.

“You have a huge garden behind your house you don’t really use. Why don’t you build a roofed over porch at the back? Build a fence, too, and he can feel safe there.”

“Huh.” 

“Steve?” Pepper asked, concerned. 

“That’s… that’s a brilliant idea. I… I will have to…” he looked up and gestured vaguely with his hands. “I have no idea how to build a porch.” 

Pepper chuckled. Maybe Steve was brilliant as Head of Security but he was all thumbs as a handyman. She took out her phone, typed and then smiled. 

“I sent you an email address. Clint Barton. Write him. He’s Tony’s secret weapon when he needs something repaired or renovated.” 

“No phone number?” Steve frowned and Pepper smiled again. 

“He’s hard of hearing and prefers to write,” she said. 

“Oh, okay,” Steve saved the email address. “Thanks, Pepper.” 

“No problem,” she said. 

“But I guess that’s not why you came down to my office, is it?” 

“No, I wanted to talk about the details for the upcoming charity event next month,” she said. 

“Boy Scouts of America?” Steve asked and Pepper shook her head. 

“No, Girl Scouts,” she said. “And I had the idea, that…”

***

Steve was nervous when he closed the garage door. He had written Clint Barton as soon as Pepper had left his office. And Barton promised to come over to his house this afternoon. Apparently he just worked in his neighborhood and said it wouldn’t be a problem to take a small detour.

“Bucky?” He called as soon as he had entered the house. “It’s me, Steve! I’m home.” 

Bucky didn’t answer but Steve could see him in the living room, sitting in his favorite armchair, watching TV. Well, sort off. He held the remote in his hand and zapped through the channels.

“Hey, Bucky,” Steve said and went to him. Bucky looked up and shut off the TV. 

“What’s up?” Bucky asked and cocked his head. 

“I… uh…” Steve blushed and sat down on the couch. “Someone will come later.” 

“Someone?” Bucky frowned but Steve saw that he was alarmed. 

“A… a handyman,” he explained. “The garden is… well… ugly and I want it pimped up.” 

Bucky turned his head to look out of the window. 

“What’s wrong with the garden?” He asked. 

“Bucky, this is not a garden, it’s wilderness,” Steve said. “I want a porch in the back where we can have a barbecue and where we can sit and enjoy the sun. And I want lawn and pretty flowers.” 

“Why? You’re almost all day long at work,” Bucky asked, still confused. 

“But… I want a nice garden,” Steve said again. 

“Uhuh,” Bucky said. “You haven’t spent a minute in the garden since I moved in.” 

“Yeah,” Steve said and gestured at the window. “Because it’s ugly as fuck and there’s no place to sit and…” 

They got interrupted when the doorbell rang. Both men looked at each other for a moment but then Steve rose and went to the door. He could hear the rustling of clothes and when he looked over his shoulder he saw that Bucky was gone. Probably to his bedroom, Steve thought. 

He sighed and opened the door. Outside was a man, a bit shorter than him, dark blond hair and broad smile on his lips. A yellow labrador sat beside him, panting and wagging his tail. 

“Hi, are you Steve Rogers?” he asked. 

“Yes, that’s me,” Steve said and held his hand out for the other man to shake it. 

“Barton,” he said. “Clint Barton,” he added a moment later. "And this is Lucky," he said and pointed at the dog. The moment he heard his name he started to wag his tail. "I hope you don't mind."

“Come in both of you.” Steve stepped aside and Barton and the dog followed him into his living room. He looked around curiously. Steve saw a purple device behind his ears. 

“You said you need your garden poshed up,” Barton said and Steve nodded. 

“Yeah,” he sighed again and gestured for Barton to follow him. He led him to the kitchen and through the backdoor into the yard that once was a garden. “That’s it,” he said and Barton nodded slowly. 

“Well, you didn’t exaggerate,” he said. “What did you do to your bushes?” Barton blurted when he saw the sorry remains of what once was a nice shrubbery. 

“I… uh… my mom said I don’t have green fingers, I have black fingers,” Steve said and scratched the back of his neck. 

Barton looked around the area and pursed his lips. 

“So, what do you want me to do here?” 

Steve turned his head, saw Bucky standing behind the window of his bedroom and watching them. So he gestured at the back end of the yard and started to walk over. Barton followed him. 

“See, Mr. Barton,” he started but Barton interrupted him.

“Call me Clint,” he smiled. 

“Steve,” Steve said, too, and then continued. “The thing is, I bought the house two years ago and I hired a company to renovate it. I always told myself that one day I would lay out the garden but… it never happened. I never had the time. But then, half a year ago, my friend moved in with me after they released him from the army. He’s been in the war and traumatized and he doesn’t leave the house. I hoped he would be able to sit at least in the garden but…” he gestured at the yard again. 

“... there is not really a garden,” Barton - Clint - said and nodded. 

“I thought a roofed over porch would help him. So he’s not too exposed to the outside and… and maybe a fence. And…” he pointed at the dead bushes and flowers, “maybe some plants, too.” 

Clint reached in his back pocket of his pants, pulled out a small notebook and started to write. He pursed his lips a few times and then nodded. 

“I think I will be able to get the porch done in around a week, ten days tops. The garden? Two weeks,” he said. “And if I juggle my appointments I can start…” he deliberated a moment, “... Tuesday okay?” 

Steve’s brows hit his hairline. 

“So fast?” He asked and Clint nodded. 

“Your friend… he lost his arm, right?” 

“How… did Tony tell you?” Steve asked and Clint shook his head. 

“No,” he said. “He’s at the window and… well… my eyes are really good. I’ve been in the army, too, and…” he pointed at his ears. “I can understand what he’s going through at the moment.” 

“I understand,” Steve said with a smile. 

“So, what do you want me to do with the garden?” Clint changed the topic.

“I… I have no clue,” Steve admitted. “Just… just make it look nice.” 

“Okay,” Clint said. “I’ll send you an estimate tomorrow. Is that okay?” 

“Of course it’s okay,” Steve nodded. “You have free rein to do whatever you think is necessary. Just…” 

“... make it look nice,” Clint grinned. 

“Exactly.”

***

When someone knocked at the door Bucky rose, took his mug and went to his bedroom. He didn’t want to see someone right now.

He sat down on his bed and stared at the door. Why did Steve hire someone to make the garden? It was ridiculous. He never used the garden. He didn’t even like flowers and that crap. 

But then he heard them leave the house through the back door and - sue him - Bucky was curious. He went to the window and saw a man beside Steve, a bit shorter, dirty blond hair and arms to die for. He smiled and gestured around a lot. The two of them walked around through the garden and talked and Bucky saw a yellow lab following them. 

At one point the man looked in his direction and Bucky _knew_ that he could see him. He made a step back but still watched them. There was something about him… something Bucky couldn’t put his finger on it right now. 

He licked his lips and took a sip from his tea. 

Well, he could stay in his bedroom as long as the guy worked here, couldn’t he? 

With a last glance he laid down on his bed, turned to the side and closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Tuesday morning, around eight o’clock. 

Bucky sat in the living room and read a book. He had a cup with tea beside himself and took a sip every now and then. Steve had left the house half an hour ago and told him he would be back at four p.m. to drive him to his shrink. 

He just turned the page when he heard a knock at the door. Bucky frowned. No one ever came to them. He turned his head and saw the silhouette of a person through the stained-glass window in the door. 

The person knocked again and a moment later a dog barked. Oh fuck, the guy who should fix the garden. Bucky stared at the door and shivers ran down his spine. He knew he should open but he was paralysed by fear. 

The dog barked again and Bucky startled. He stared at the door, at the silhouette of the man. 

“Hey, uh…” a voice called. “It’s me, Clint. Steve said someone’s at home.” 

Bucky swallowed hard and licked his lips. 

“I… uh… I’ll wait in the car, okay? If you don’t want to see me, you can open the door and… and go somewhere, where you feel safe. I’ll stay out of your hair, okay?” 

Bucky saw the silhouette disappear and stared at the door for another long moment. Steve would be disappointed if he didn’t let the guy in. He would think that he was broken. He waited a few seconds before he rose, opened the door and stepped aside. He didn’t leave the living room, he went just back to the armchair, sat down and took his book. 

It took a few minutes but then he could see the man in the doorway, a toolbox in his hand and the dog beside him. He just talked to the dog and startled a bit when he realized that Bucky was still here. 

“Hi… uh… hey,” he smiled. “I’m Clint,” he said. 

Bucky opened his mouth, closed it and licked his lips again.

“Bucky,” he said then. 

“Hi,” the man smiled and his whole face lit up. “And this is Lucky,” he gestured at the dog. 

“Lucky,” Bucky echoed and the man’s smile broadened. 

“Lucky and Bucky,” he said and scratched the back of his neck. But when the dog wanted to walk in Clint grabbed his collar. “Do you … uh… do you like dogs?” 

Bucky looked at the animal and shrugged. The dog didn’t seem dangerous. He wagged his tail and panted and it almost looked as if he smiled. 

Clint shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uneasy. 

“Is... uh… Is the stuff I ordered here?” he asked. Bucky pointed at a pile of wood and other stuff behind the house. Clint looked in the direction, smiled and made a step to the back door. 

“I guess I just start to work then,” he said and when Bucky kept quiet he led the dog to the door. Together they left the house and he closed the door behind himself. 

Bucky released the breath and the pent-up tension faded away. He slumped down into his armchair some more and looked at his shivering hand. He should call Sam. Sam would know what to do.

***

Thursday was a really hot day. Clint came early in the morning, Bucky let him in and he went to the garden and started to work. Bucky sat in the living room and he watched him through the windows. But Thursday was hot and Bucky could see him sweating outside and at one point he removed his shirt and worked bare-chested.

At the moment he just trimmed boards with a saw and Bucky could see his muscles move under his skin. Cint had freckles on his shoulders… and a few scars on his body. He’s probably been a soldier, too. 

Bucky just took a sip from his mug when Clint put his saw aside, wiped away the sweat with his shirt and took a deep breath. He reached for the bottle of water he had with him and frowned. It was empty. Frustrated he put the bottle away again, sighed and reached for his saw again. 

Bucky pursed his lips and looked at his own mug, then at the coffee maker and rose. He took a mug out of the cupboard, filled it with coffee and went to the backdoor. Clint was working with his back to him and so Bucky just placed the mug beside his toolbox and closed the door again. He went back to his armchair and sat down. 

It took a few minutes before Clint found the mug. He hesitated, looked up, looked in Bucky’s direction and took the coffee. He smiled and took a sip. Bucky just nodded before he reached for his book, opened it and held it so his face was covered. His ears felt a bit hot. 

Later, when Clint was done for the day, he put the mug onto the counter in the kitchen. 

“Thanks for the coffee,” he said, a smile on his lips. Bucky could see freckles on his nose, too. 

“It’s… uh… okay,” he said. 

“See you tomorrow then,” Clint said and together with his dog he left the house.

***

It was Friday and Bucky stood in the kitchen to make some coffee. The coffee maker burbled on the counter and he looked out of the window, waiting for his caffeine fix. Steve was delighted when he had looked out of the window.

“Awesome,” he had said. “It almost looks like a porch already.” 

He’d been so excited that Bucky could almost forgive him for hiring an intruder to run around in their home. But then he remembered it wasn’t _his_ home, it was Steve’s home and he was merely a guest here. 

“The man seems to know what he does,” said Bucky. 

“Pepper wouldn’t have recommended him if he was incapable,” Steve shrugged and Bucky nodded. 

And now Steve was at work, Clint was back and worked outside. The dog lay in the shadow and slept. 

The coffee maker stopped gurgling and Bucky reached for two mugs, filled both of them with coffee. He waited till Clint walked to get some more wood and then opened the door a tiny crack and placed the mug on the window sill. The dog looked up and started to pant a bit but Bucky just closed the door and went to his armchair. His book was waiting for him. 

When Clint turned back and saw the mug he smiled, took it and raised it in his direction before he drank. Bucky saw a purple device behind his ear when he went back to his work. A hearing aid? He’s hard of hearing? Steve didn’t tell him. Why did Steve not tell him?

“Huh,” Bucky said and only when he heard his voice he realized he had said it aloud. He reached for his book, opened it and tried to read. But when his eyes wandered over to the window and the man outside more often he put it aside and shuffled to the couch. He flopped down on it, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, started to switch through the channels and sighed because it was only crap everywhere. 

“Thanks for the coffee,” a voice said behind him and Bucky startled. He dropped the remote and his heart beat like a sledgehammer. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Clint said and came around the couch. 

Bucky stared at him, eyes wide and his flesh and blood hand shook. 

Clint hunkered down beside him but he didn’t touch him. 

“Bucky?” he asked carefully. “Can you hear me?” 

Bucky nodded frantically. 

“Right,” Clint said. “Look at me now.” Bucky did. “And now breathe with me.” 

He inhaled audibly and moved his hands up in front of his chest, palms up, and then he turned them around, moved them downwards and exhaled. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Bucky looked at his hands and slowly managed to breathe in the same rhythm. And his heart rate slowed down, too. 

“Okay?” Clint said a few moments later. 

Bucky nodded. 

“I’m sorry for startling you,” he said then and scratched the back of his neck. “I thought you heard me.” 

“I… I was… I was…” he gestured at the TV. 

“Oh,” Clint said with a nod. “Next time I’ll knock, okay?” 

“That’s…” Bucky licked his lips. “That’s not necessary. It’s… it happens.” 

Clint looked at him, then turned around and waved his hand. Bucky was unsure what he just did but a moment later the dog trotted in and sat down beside him. He looked up at his owner and when Clint carefully took Bucky’s flesh and blood hand and placed it on his body, the dog started to pant and it almost looked like a smile. 

“He’s soft,” he whispered and Clint nodded. 

Bucky slowly moved his hand a bit and the dog moved closer to him. It was nice. The warm body of the animal, the soft fur and the gentle nudges when he didn’t pet him fast enough were calming. 

“He likes you,” Clint said, a smile on his lips. 

“What… what happened to his eye?” Bucky asked and for the first time he directly looked at the other man. 

“He saved my life,” Clint said. “Had a little argument with a bunch of Russians and he helped me. But a car hit him doing it. It was a close call but Lucky here, he’s a fighter.” 

“He’s a good boy,” Bucky murmured when the dog nudged his hand again and he smiled and scratched his ears. 

“Yes, he is,” Clint confirmed. He rose. 

“Do you mind if he stays here a bit? He’s bored and it’s too warm outside for him,” Clint asked and Bucky looked at him again. And then he nodded. 

“Cool,” Clint grinned and rose. He gestured at the back door. “I guess I should go back to work then,” he said. 

Bucky watched him leave but then the dog touched his hand again and he continued to pet him. 

“Yeah,” he murmured. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” 

And Lucky licked his fingers.


	3. Chapter 3

Clint said he couldn’t work Saturday and Sunday but the next Monday he was back. He had a band-aid over his nose and a bandage around his left arm. His dog followed him. 

Bucky waited with two mugs of coffee in the kitchen and frowned when he saw the bandages. 

“What happened?” he asked and Clint looked at his arm and then his face lit up. 

“Oh,” he grinned, “One of the kids I train slipped a bit.” 

“Slipped?” Bucky asked and Clint’s grin broadened. 

“Yeah,” he said and took the mug Bucky handed him. “I train a few kids from the Hearth and Home Orphanage.” And a moment later he added, “Archery. One of the kids grazed my arm with an arrow.” 

“Archery?” Bucky blurted and Clint smiled. It was a cute smile Bucky had to admit. 

“I lived in an orphanage until I ran away to join a circus,” Clint said. “That’s where I learned to shoot a bow.” 

“And now you want to help the kids?” Bucky asked and Clint nodded. 

“They love it,” he said. “It’s fun.” 

“You’ve been in a circus?” 

“The Amazing Hawkeye at your service,” Clint said with a mock bow and a smirk on his lips. 

Bucky scrutinized him, then nodded. 

“And the nose?” 

Clint winced and scratched the back of his neck. 

“Well, the story contains a dart board, a former circus artist and a bunch of drunk guys,” he said and looked up from under his lashes. “It’s embarrassing.” 

Bucky’s mouth went dry and he took a sip from his coffee. 

“I… uh… I would love to hear it,” he said. 

Clint turned his head and looked out of the window to the porch he was supposed to work at right now. 

“Why don’t you… uh... come with me and I’ll tell you?” he asked and when he saw Bucky pale he added, “And you don’t even have to leave the house, just leave the door open and stay inside.”

Bucky looked at him for a very long moment but when he felt Lucky’s wet snout touching his hand he looked down, looked at the dog… and nodded. 

They used a chair to keep the door open and Bucky sat down on it while Clint started to work. And he told him the story of how he went to a bar with his friend Natasha, how they drank loads of vodka and how he laughed at a few guys playing darts. And when they challenged him to do it better he showed them. 

“After the sixth nine-darter they were so pissed,” Clint said and rubbed his nose. “And then we settled it in the backyard. Fortunately Nat was with me,” he grinned. “She’s awesome.” 

Bucky grinned when Clint told him how he and his friend Natasha fought against six drunk guys in the backyard of the bar, how Natasha - “she’s just this tiny runt but she kicks like a mule” - took out four of them. And then he told him about the kids in the orphanage. And then about his time in the circus and Bucky stayed almost the whole time in the door, listened and petted the dog. 

This afternoon, when Clint was gone and Steve came home, he lay on the couch and still smiled. 

“How was your day?” Steve asked and Bucky shrugged at first. But then he sat up. 

“Did you know that Clint is an archer?” he asked and Steve stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and turned around. 

“No, I had no idea,” he said honestly. 

“He’s training kids in an orphanage,” Bucky said. “And he’s been in a circus. I’ve never met a circus artist before.” 

“You seem to like him,” Steve said and turned around to look at Bucky. He still sat on the couch and looked up. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he said. “He’s nice. And I like his dog.” 

“His dog? You don’t like dogs,” Steve frowned. 

“But Lucky is okay,” Bucky shrugged. 

“Huh,” Steve said and scrutinized Bucky, who felt the heat in his cheeks under his gaze. 

“Okay, can we order pizza now?” he said and rose from his couch. “I’m starving.” 

Steve watched him for another long moment before he nodded. 

“Right, pizza,” he said. “Bacon, pineapple, double cheese and pepperoni.” 

Bucky made gagging noises but rose and reached for the phone. 

“You’re disgusting, Rogers,” he said. But then a small smile appeared on his lips and Steve stared at him as if he’d seen a ghost. 

Bucky didn’t smile in like ages and now he still smiled while dialing. 

“You just don’t know jack,” Steve said and smiled, too.

***

It was Thursday when Steve left work earlier. He had talked to Pepper again and she said he should go if he was worried about Bucky.

“I’m not worried, Pepper, but… he’s different lately,” he had said and Pepper had smiled and patted his shoulder. 

“He’s getting better,” she had said. “Maybe his therapy starts to work.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” he had said. And then Pepper had sent him home. 

He parked his bike in the garage, opened the door to the house and went in. He expected Bucky on the couch where he spent most of his time but the couch was empty and the TV was off. Steve frowned and went to the kitchen… and stopped dead in his tracks. 

The door to the garden was open and Bucky sat on a chair in the door jamb, his feet were clearly outside and he was talking with Clint, who stood on a ladder, doing something with the new porch roof. His dog lay beside Bucky and he absentmindedly pettet him with his artificial hand. Wait? With his artificial hand? Bucky didn’t like it and he usually didn’t do things with it if not absolutely necessary. And he still refused to touch people with it! 

Clint just said something Steve couldn’t understand but then Bucky laughed. He actually laughed and Steve stared as if he’d grown a second head. Clint climbed down from the ladder, saw Steve and waved in his direction and now Bucky turned around, too, looked at him, frowned, looked at the watch in the kitchen and frowned even more. 

“You’re back early ?” he asked and his face turned back to his usual blank mask. 

“Yeah, I… uh…” Steve said and realized he forgot to think about the reason why he was back early. “I… uh…” 

“Hey, Steve,” Clint threw in and waved through the door, a smile on his lips. 

“Hi,” he smiled back. “I’m here because I wanted to talk to him,” he said then. Clint was usually gone when Steve came back. 

“With me?” Clint asked and Steve nodded. He went to the door, went onto the new porch and Clint - one look at Bucky - followed him. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, it’s about the garden,” Steve lied and pointed at one of the bushes on the other side of the property. Clint looked, then nodded and together with Steve he went over to said bush. 

“I think I can finish the porch tomorrow and then…” Clint started but as soon as they were out of earshot Steve turned to him.

“What did you do?” he asked, completely at a loss. “I mean… he’s…” Steve threw his arms in the air and looked back to the door where Bucky stood and frowned in their direction. 

“What do you mean?” Clint asked. He furrowed his brows and looked at Bucky, too. “I… uh… we just talked. He brings me coffee and…” 

“He what?” Steve blurted. 

“It was hot the first day here and Bucky brought me coffee,” Clint said. “And he likes my dog.” 

Steve turned to Bucky once again and stared open mouthed. Bucky raised a brow, pursed his lips and turned around to get inside. 

“He… likes your dog,” Steve mumbled and looked at Clint now. “He’s always been a cat person.” 

“Well, Lucky is different,” Clint smiled and Steve nodded slowly. 

“Whatever you do, man,” he said, “Keep doing it.” 

Clint cocked his head and frowned. 

“What?” 

“I mean, look at him,” Steve sighed. “He’s sitting in the door to talk to you. He never even came close to that door since he moved in. Whatever you do, Clint, I hope you keep doing it.” 

Clint nodded slowly. 

“I like him,” he said. “He’s nice, you know. If I can help him, I’ll try it, okay?” 

“Okay,” Steve smiled. 

Together they walked back to the house and Bucky came to the door again. 

“So, you done talking about me?” he asked and looked at Steve, not at Clint. 

“No, we.. uh… we talked about the future planting and… he wants laburnum, can you imagine?” Clint threw in. Bucky raised a brow again. 

“It’s pretty,” Steve said lamely. He knew, if someone would ask him what this laburnum even is he would fail miserably. 

“Laburnum is poisonous, Steve,” Bucky said. “And it’s dangerous for dogs.” 

“We… uh… we don’t have a dog,” Steve said and stared at Bucky completely at a loss. 

“Maybe we should get one,” Bucky stated and went back inside again. 

“Uhm…” Steve said elaborately and looked at Clint, who shrugged.

“It wasn’t my idea,” he said. “He just seems to like Lucky and so…” 

“But he… he doesn’t like dogs,” Steve said and knew he said it a few times before. But when he looked inside of his house and saw Bucky at the couch and Clint’s dog sitting beside him, he wasn’t so sure anymore. 

“I know someone who trains service dogs,” Clint said and Steve could feel his eyes on him. "Well, just in case you're..." 

“Can you give me the phone number?” 

“Sure.” 

“Well, apparently we’re getting a dog.”

**Author's Note:**

> [asamandra on tumblr](http://asamandra.tumblr.com/)   
>  [clintbartonruinedmylife on tumblr](https://clintbartonruinedmylife.tumblr.com/)   
> 


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